


Unfamiliar

by gammaray



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emetophobia, Eye Gouging, Gen, Graphic Description, Medical, Medical Procedures, Mild Gore, Prompt Fill, Surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 15:31:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gammaray/pseuds/gammaray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PROMPT: Virus being the first to get his eyes removed and Trip is able to watch. This becomes the one moment in Trip's life he remembers being afraid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unfamiliar

**Author's Note:**

> dont read this while eating. i wrote the graphic part right after stopping for food and its a terrible idea

"Open your eyes and stare ahead at the wall." 

Your eyesight hasn't changed since you were emitted five years ago. They still insist they check every other week. 

"Look up." 

The bright light they use is annoying, but you're not capable of moving fast enough to punch them in the face. 

"Look down." 

A headache throbs dully in the back of your skull, but the medicine keeps it at bay. 

"Look left." 

The most you can do is kick your legs a little. It might look like an absent thing to do, but you actually want to kill somebody right now. This is how you're coping with the strength of the medication. 

"Look right." 

There's a loose bandage on your knee. If you don't replace it with a fresh one, Virus will get mad. He doesn't like germs. 

"Look ahead again." 

You don't know why though. Why germs? He's seen you bleed all over the porcelain floor in your shared bedroom. He always looks so calm when it happens, patching you up and quietly chastising you the whole time. 

"Alright, you're done. Leave." 

You hop off the examination table, shoving your hands into your pockets as you leave the optometrist ward. It's a crowded walk back to your bedroom, but everyone knows not to go near you. They know you're medicated, but your rage tends to get the best of you, sedated or not. 

It's no surprise the bedroom door isn't locked. Only you lock it, and only at night. Cracking the door open, you slip inside. The digital clock on the wall states that levels nine through twelve are in the middle of a lesson, therefore Virus is gone. The lesson is almost over, but Virus tends to walk off to explore. He's gotten the doctors to believe he's one of the best kids in the program, but he's actually just as bad as you. Physically? No. He's terrifyingly smart. He's the brains out of the two of you. 

Virus is your main source of entertainment, so staring at the wall seems to be on the agenda. You curl up on his bed, bringing his pillow to your chest. He knows you lay here when he's out and yet he hasn't voiced his disliking towards it. He just stares at you as he passes once he's announced his return, putting his books away and heading to the bathroom. 

Sometimes he curls up in bed with you. 

It's something you don't talk about. 

The door opens and you roll over to look at the door, on alert now that Virus is back. You're a lot more relaxed around him, but the initial door-opening had woken you up. 

His eyebrows are furrowed over his glasses, which isn't a good thing. 

"Come with me." 

He guides you down the hallway and up four flights up stairs, grasping your wrist with a firm hand. If you concentrate enough, you think you can feel it's a little clammy. 

The double doors shut behind you and you're standing in a bright, sterile room. 

Light reflects off of silver medical tools and you backpedal the fuck out of there. 

Firm hands grab at your upper arms from behind, stopping you from escaping. You try to fight it off, but you're still influenced by the relaxer coursing through your veins. If you were calm, you'd tug out the miniature IV taped to your arm. 

"Calm down, Trip. You're not the one they're operating on." Virus' voice calms you immediately, shoulders relaxing as he speaks. His words scare you, but if it isn't you, then... Who's being operating on? 

Doctors enter the room and call out Virus' serial tag, ushering him to the bed with the bright lights all around it. Your breath hitches and you watch with wide eyes, following the doctor that guides you to the viewing room. You're too shocked to scream or flinch when they touch you. 

Hands everywhere, you catch a glance of a doctor taking Virus' glasses from him. His eyes slide shut when a mask is placed over his mouth. 

"He wanted you to watch before you were operated on." 

The doctor in the viewing room with you speaks softly, a decent amount away from where you stand in front of the glass. You don't care about their voice. You're busy watching the doctors making markings around Virus' eyes. 

"You were supposed to go first since you're younger and your eyesight is a lot better, but he refused to let you go under so soon." A pause. You're intently listening now. "He's protective of you. He denies it, but he cares about you a lot. I don't suggest mentioning this to him, since there are some possibilities of memor—" 

"Wait." You paw at the glass, eyes wide at the sight before you. A scream builds in your throat, causing you to choke on your next words. "What the _hell_ are they doing—" 

It's a colorful blur of monitors frantically beeping and doctors bustling around to prepare for whatever they're about to do. The doctors haven't told you _anything_. All you know is surgery is really scary. You turn to shout at the doctor that you had interrupted, but they're staring at the glass. Are they... What the fuck? Are they _happy_? 

"Nice one, chief!" 

You sharply turn around to look at what the doctors below are holding and immediately throw up your lunch. 

Virus' eyeball. 

His right eye is missing. His right eye is in the hands of a filthy doctor. His eye socket is empty. There's no eye. _Put his eye back. That's not yours. That's Virus' eye. Put it back. Put it back. PUT IT BACK Put it ba_

You clutch at your uneasy stomach, coughing from the force of your vomiting. A low whine escapes, mouth burning from the remaining bile. Your stomach rolls with the next eye removal, but you don't cough up anything else. 

Doctors spread out around the room, a couple leaving through a door. To grab something, maybe. 

His eyes aren't covered. 

His eye sockets are empty he _doesn't have any eyes where are his EYES give them back give them back those AREN'T yo_

Tears drip down your cheeks before you can stop them, weakly pounding at the glass. You lean your forehead against the wall, shaking with the force of your sobs. The door to the viewing room shuts. The doctor must've left. Thank god. 

You're unable to speak, but your weak shouting is enough for now. You're angry and terrified and _Virus doesn't have any eyes he is just LAYING THERE WITH NO EYES_ but you can't do anything. 

Knees buckle and you fall to the cold floor, the bandage on your knee slipping off. You hiss out a curse at the pain of a reopened wound, the tears continuing to fall. There's a constriction feeling in your chest and you're afraid you'll start hyperventilating. 

You're both relieved and frightened when the two doctors return to the operating room, a tray in one of their hands and some towels in the other's. They continue the operation, ignoring your screams for them to stop. There's not much blood, but you're still horrified. 

You're scared. 

You claw at the glass keeping you separated from him, banging at it from time to time. There's no point in standing—you're weak and sobbing and the door is probably locked. All you can do is cry and hit things. It's not enough. 

It's not clear how long you sit there and bawl, but a doctor's voice eventually comes from the intercom above. 

"He's done." 

That's it. That's all they say. You get up on wobbly legs, leaning against the glass to catch your breath. You're no longer sobbing audibly, but the tears streak down your cheeks occasionally. The door is unlocked when you turn the knob. 

You push past the doctors waiting for you, hurrying to your bedroom. You fall a couple times due to your lack of stability, but you don't care. You need to see Virus. 

Unlike your rush to get there, you're quiet when opening the door. The lights are off, but there's a figure propped up in Virus' bed. 

"Who is it?" 

You flinch, closing the door as softly as you can. Virus doesn't move, bandages wrapped across his head to cover his eyes. His lips are parted with the lingering question and you tap your knuckle twice against your footboard. 

His lips curl up with a thin smile. He taps back twice against his headboard. 

Oh. 

So _that's_ why he taught you that. 

"Hearing you cry was the best part."


End file.
